


black and white

by AylaPascal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AylaPascal/pseuds/AylaPascal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In wars, there is no room for neutrality. Only black and white.</p>
            </blockquote>





	black and white

**i. courtroom**  
  
"Vampires, on the whole, have been neutral. But you weren't neutral, were you, Mr. Tierney? Please tell this special council of the Wizengamot what role played during this war."   
  
I stared at the mortal and sneered. "I serve the Dark Lord."   
  
A low murmur ran through everybody listening. I couldn't help smiling at this. I noticed how the prosecutor stepped backwards as I bared my fangs.   
  
"I move for this _abomination_ to be sent to Azkaban for life," the prosecutor said tightly as she stared at me out of the corner of one eye.   
  
"What?" I mocked. "No Dementor's kiss for me?"   
  
"You have no soul," she snapped. "You _murderer_."   
  
"Enough!" the Minister said as he tapped the table sharply with his wand. "Nicholas Tierney, you will remain in Azkaban until this court is able to decide your sentence."   
  
I shrugged. If they didn't know that Azkaban couldn't hold one of my kind, then so be it.   
  
  
**ii. offer**  
  
It all began a year and a half ago, during the first stages of the war. I had heard from the Council that there were concerted efforts to recruit us from both sides, overtly by the Dark Lord and covertly by the so-called Light side. I thought I was safe though. I never believed that they would go to the effort of tracking down each individual vampire.   
  
I was _stupid._  
  
The knock came at my door just as night was falling. The young man standing there was my anthesis in every way. Where I had dark hair, his was a white-blond. Where I was always rather tall, he was only an average height. While I was a vampire, he was human. "Yes, can I help you?" I asked him politely while staring at the pounding pulse point on his neck. I've been told that I do this by many mortals. Apparently it makes them uncomfortable.   
  
"Nicholas Tierney?"   
  
It was then I knew that this wasn't simply a social call. Nobody knew my real name around there. I stiffened imperceptibly and shifted so that my wand was easily accessible. "How may I help you?"   
  
The man held out an elegant hand for me to shake. "My name is Draco Malfoy. I have a proposal for you." He hesitated. "Perhaps we should take this inside."   
  
"Indeed," I said. I stepped back and allowed him to step inside my house. "Follow me."   
  
I couldn't help but notice his expression of distaste as he looked over my rather meagre possessions. Then again, I suppose I couldn't blame him. There were few wizarding families as rich as the Malfoys, especially in these parts of the world. "Take a seat," I told him, as I seated myself down on a comfortable couch.   
  
After a brief look around the room, Malfoy seated himself gingerly on an armchair.   
  
"You said something about a business proposal," I said smoothly. "I am intrigued. Please continue." Of course, by then, I knew almost exactly why the Malfoy scion was in my living room, but I was curious. But you know what Muggles say about curiosity and cats.   
  
He gave a cold smile. "Surely, Mr. Tierney, you know why I am here."  
  
"I may have some ideas," I admitted. "But let's imagine I don't. Enlighten me." I gave him a wide smile, showing all of my teeth.   
  
Malfoy gulped and I could help but watch as his throat muscles moved. "I come on behalf of Lord Voldemort to offer you a position in our armies. We could use somebody with your particular… _talents_ on our side."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. Whatever happened to the subtlety the Council had told me to watch out for? The Council had been approached with ambiguous letters and promises. This simple offer was almost a let-down.   
  
"I see," I said softly. "It is apparent why Voldemort would want me on his side. But what's in it for _me_?"   
  
Malfoy blinked.   
  
Standing up, I was behind Malfoy's chair before he could speak a word. I could smell his fear from where I was standing. There were faint beads of perspiration on his forehead. "What's to stop me from just leaning over and drinking your blood?" I whispered into his ear and was gratified to feel him shudder against me. "Surely your Lord has told you about the legendary powers of my kind. There is nothing your little stick," I plucked his wand from his fingers and tossed it across the room, "could do. I could kill you _so easily_."   
  
"But," he said unsteadily. Apparently my proximity was having other, far more interesting effects. "You haven't killed me."   
  
"I prefer to play with my toys before destroying them," I murmured. The spike in his fear levels was palpable. I licked my lips. "Unless, you can give me a good reason not to." Stepping backwards, I walked around the armchair and seated myself on the couch again.   
  
Malfoy took a few deep breaths. "I don't suppose you have heard of the new Vampire Laws that will be passed by the Ministry in a few days time."   
  
I blanched and then quickly schooled my features into a bland expression but it was already too late. Silently, I chided myself. I wasn't a mortal. I've had almost two hundred years to school my expression into neutrality. And usually, it worked. Except when I was surprised. And this mortal had taken me by surprise.   
  
"I take it from your reaction that you had no idea," Malfoy said smoothly, a smirk playing on his lips.   
  
It was then I realised that I had underestimated him. I had thought that this man, barely out of adolescence, would be simple to manipulate. I thought I could simply intimidate him. I never thought he had any actual knowledge. Then again, I thought with self-recrimination, I never thought that the Ministry would pass any laws against us. It was a well known fact that Voldemort was trying to recruit vampires. Of course, I had thought it would be an equally well known fact that we were neutral. Did the Ministry even think of the consequences of the law?   
  
"Would you like me to tell you the specifics of the law?" Malfoy offered with an easy smile, the smile of a man who knew that he had the upper hand.   
  
My mouth tightened into a thin line and I ignored what he said. "Why did you not go to the Council with this information?"   
  
He waved an insolent hand. "The Council of Elders has already shown itself unwilling to negotiate and to listen to reason. The Dark Lord thought it better that we take our offer to individual vampires."   
  
There was an obvious question in the air but I refused to ask it. After all, it didn't matter how he found me. "What makes you think that I would be any more amendable to your offer – whatever it may be – than my Council?"   
  
"Because we can offer you complete immunity against the law and its repercussions. And believe me, you'll need it." He looked smug. "This offer will expire five days from now."   
  
I abandoned my pride. "What are the Vampire Laws about?"   
  
"I'll leave you to find out about them yourself," Malfoy said with another smirk that I longed to wipe off his face. "They should be public knowledge within a few days."   
  
I let my fangs come out and bared my teeth. "Perhaps I should just kill the messenger," I said softly, my voice a hiss. "It would be so easy for me to drink you dry and then disappear. How would you like that, young Draco Malfoy? For me to taste your blood."   
  
His hands shook from where they were clenched on the armrests. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass," he said tightly. "You did not think that the Dark Lord would be so … _careless_ with his followers. I did not come here unprepared." He lifted up his hand and I could see a bracelet dangling from one wrist. With one swift motion, he flipped open the small dangling photo holder and a piece of paper fell out onto his hand.   
  
He disappeared almost immediately.   
  
To this day, I'm not sure what stopped me from grabbing him, from ripping the bracelet off, from going along for the Portkey ride. Perhaps it was sheer surprise. Perhaps stupidity.   
  
All I knew was that I sat there dumbly for almost five seconds. I had been bested by a mere mortal who was less than a tenth of my age. I was _furious._   
  
  
**iii. laws**  
  
When the laws came out, I was prepared. There were a few in the small town I lived in who knew of my need for blood. I made sure I was far away from the town when the morning papers arrived. From a remote cave in the Scottish highlands, I unrolled my copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and was suitably horrified.   
  
I stared at the title: _The Blood-Sucking Menace – A Solution_  
  
We were a menace?   
  
I was aware of certain vampires who preyed indiscriminately on any mortal but as far as I knew, most of us were relatively polite about our unfortunate need for blood. It didn't stop the wizarding world from refusing us jobs and schooling, but I had grown accustomed to this and had begun working in the Muggle world. There was a certain benefit in working with people who refused to believe that you existed.   
  
But… a _menace?_  
  
As I read the article and the accompanying excerpts from the law, I felt sick. The last time I had that feeling was when I accidentally ate dead meat in a Muggle 'vegetarian' restaurant.   
  
_"All vampires are asked to register at the Ministry by the end of the week and will be sent to resettlement camps for processing. Any vampire that does not co-operate will be disposed of."_  
  
I felt a sinking feeling as I read the following words in the accompanying article:   
  
_"Vampires have consistently refused to join and register with the side of the Light. It must therefore be assumed that they have already sided with You Know Who."_  
  
Although not specifically stated, it was blatantly apparent that the Ministry's position refused to allow for neutrality. Black and white. And it was already decided for us where we would stand.   
  
_Any vampire that does not co-operate will be disposed of._  
  
I pursed my lips and decided to contact Draco Malfoy.   
  
  
**iv. manor**  
  
"Welcome," Draco Malfoy greeted me at the door. His tone was courteous and I couldn't help compare it against the tones of Ministry officials last time I tried to apply for a job there.   
  
_I'm sorry, Mr. Tierney, despite your numerous accreditations, we cannot afford to have a vampire on our staff._  
  
"I am curious how your Lord plans on protecting me against these laws."   
  
Malfoy looked at me with a curious smile on his face. "That will be very simple. You will be staying here. We have hidden cottages all over Britain. My father is currently at one of them. You can help us with strategy."   
  
I stared at him until he turned his face away.   
  
"Don't do that!" he said sharply.   
  
"I refuse to hide myself away while the Ministry removes the rights of my brothers and sisters," I spat.   
  
"Well," Malfoy said slowly, as if he was considering his words carefully, "there is another option."   
  
"Tell me," I said sharply.   
  
And as we ate a sumptuous meal complete with goblets of blood for me, he outlined his audacious plan. I had to admit that a part of me like the plan, liked the idea of recruiting under the Ministry's very nose.   
  
  
**v. register**  
  
The Ministry official barely looked at me as he held out a hand. "Birth certificate?"   
  
I handed over mine.   
  
He tapped the Muggle-looking document with a wand and watched as the document read out: "Nicholas Tierney. Parents: William and Matilda. Born 1792. Turned at age 26." He snorted and pointed to the next counter.   
  
I raised an eyebrow. "What's that for?"   
  
He sneered at me. "Don't bother trying anything, _vampire._ My counter is warded. Only papers can pass through."   
  
I was surprised and disappointed at the thoroughness of the Ministry. Lifting a hand, I tested the wards and found my hand suspended in the thick, impassable air.   
  
"Good wards, eh?" The man smirked. "Dumbledore himself came and did them. He understands how dangerous you creatures are."   
  
Albus Dumbledore. The most powerful wizard in Britain. The embodiment of the Light side. I should have felt betrayed but all I felt was resignation. We were judged and sentenced without even a trial. There was a swirl of bitterness in my stomach that fought to escape. With effort, I retracted my fangs that had come out automatically and swallowed the blood in my mouth. I had bitten my own tongue.   
  
"Good day," I said frostily and stepped away from his counter with a swirl of my black cloak.   
  
  
**vi. mark**  
  
I should have known.   
  
Damn it, I should have _known._  
  
Not even the Dark Lord was presumptuous (or suicidal) enough to Mark me, but the Ministry was.   
  
"Please hold out your arm," the witch informed me, coldly polite. There must have been compulsion spells up around her counter because I rolled up my right sleeve and held out my arm without so much as a single word of process.   
  
The next thing I remember was an excruciating pain shooting up my arm. It was worse than when I was turned which is saying something. When the pain finally dulled slightly, I stared at my arm where a bright blood-red 'V' was blatantly apparent on my wrist.   
  
"That is permanent," the witch informed me. "It is both a tracking device and a way of controlling creatures like you."   
  
I sneered. "If I am nothing but a creature, why do you persist on speaking to me, _mortal_.."   
  
The witch pointed her wand at the mark and murmured something under her breath. Immediately, a shooting pain went up my arm and I clutched at it.   
  
"I would be more polite if I were you, vampire," she told me. "Now move along. You will be assigned to a resettlement camp at the next counter."   
  
  
**ii. camp**  
  
My first few days in Camp Victory were miserable. Actually, my entire stay there was miserable, but those first few days were the worst. I spent the days sitting in half shadow, cursing every mortal I had ever met, especially Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore. How _dare_ they?   
  
I didn't bother speaking to my fellow inmates. On the whole they were a dismal lot and only got worse as the days went on. The entire camp was designed so that we got the brightest sunlight at all hours of the day. Only the strongest, of whom I was one of, could get the few corners where there was shadow. Only the strongest got to sup on the only blood available. Those of rats.   
  
Rumours filtered through to my ears that the vampires of the Council, had gone down fighting and had taken down several hundred Aurors. I smiled grimly when I heard this. It would only serve to infuriate the Ministry more.   
  
The ones currently in the camp were the weakest, both physically and morally. The ones who did not fight to defend themselves and their freedom.   
  
And, of course, me.   
  
Those first few days, I wondered what hellish force had gotten me to agree to Draco Malfoy's plan.   
  
_You will be our insider. You will tell us the rumours of the camps. The rumours of inmates and the rumours of guards. You will recruit for us inside the camps. Malcontents are easy pickings. You will, of course, be handsomely rewarded for your efforts._  
  
But to who, I wondered. Who should I pass this information to? Or had they simply abandoned me.  
  
  
 **viii. contact**  
  
It was the fourth day when they contacted me.   
  
I was ordered out of bed before sunlight and told to go to the guards building where I was physically shoved into a small warded room. I didn't bother struggling. I could have taken down one or two of the guards in my physically weakened state, but then that would have simply given them the opportunity to kill me.   
  
I was surprised to see Draco Malfoy waiting in the room.   
  
"You needn't look so surprised," he told me irritably. "I told you we would contact you somehow." And then, to my absolute astonishment, he undid the top buttons of the robe he was wearing and lowered it. I couldn't help but stare at the pulsing vein in his neck. "Don't just stare," he snapped. "Drink, damn it."   
  
"Drink?" I echoed dumbly.   
  
"Yes!" he said. "The Dark Lord does not leave his loyal followers hanging. It was hard enough for me to get in here without drawing suspicion without getting another person here as well. Now drink, damn it!"   
  
I didn't need to be told twice. I admit it, I was weak and the sight of that steadily throbbing neck was enough to make me dizzy. I walked carefully over and knelt down beside his chair. I used a finger to tip his chin back slightly. "Have you ever done this before?"   
  
He was shaking. "No," he admitted. And then he blurted out. "Will it hurt?"   
  
I couldn't help but laugh which only heightened the sense of fear I could feel coming in waves off him. "You should trust the Dark Lord more… Draco." I felt it only appropriate that I call him by his full name since I was about to drink his blood. "It will not hurt. According to most, the feeling is one of intense pleasure."   
  
"Oh good," he murmured.   
  
My fangs extended and I leaned over him and sank them into the soft flesh. I could feel the warmth of his body and the tang of his blood flowing over my tongue, life giving blood trickling down my throat. I almost immediately felt stronger and began to suck from the wound. He moaned.   
  
I frowned slightly and began to drink at a more sedate pace. I licked the wound when I was finished and watched it close up. "Do you feel dizzy?" I asked.   
  
Draco shook his head. "Not terribly." He took a potion out of his robes and downed it.   
  
"Blood replenisher," I noted, by the colour and consistency of the potion.   
  
He looked surprised and then he schooled his features into a neutral expression. "Now, have you made any progress on recruiting for our cause?" he asked.   
  
I paused, not wanting to admit that I hadn't even tried.   
  
To my surprise, he gave a warm laugh and touched me on the cheek. I was still kneeling beside his chair and our heads were almost at the same height. "Perhaps it is you who needs to trust the Dark Lord more. I expect you will have more news next time. Somebody else will come again in a few days time. We may orchestrate a transfer for you into another camp in a few months time, especially if any suspicions arise."   
  
I looked at him. "Despite your mortality," I said slowly, "I think I may be beginning to admire you."   
  
  
**ix. planning**  
  
Over the next year and a bit, I recruited over twenty vampires for the Dark Lord's cause. Draco managed to smuggle us information on our Marks as well as our wands which we used to disable the tracking devices and pain triggers.   
  
We staged a daring escape one night and most managed to get out with no trouble at all. The guards were all drained dry. I, unfortunately, was captured and sent to trial in a special council of the Wizengamot.   
  
It was then I learned the lies the Ministry was telling the public.   
  
_The vampires were mostly neutral._  
  
I was.   
  
Until they forced me to take sides by hunting down and _disposing_ of the neutral ones.   
  
I couldn't help sneering at the bushy-haired prosecutor who stared at me like I was a specimen in a potions laboratory. What did she know of being a vampire?   
  
It was with relish that I escaped that evening leaving behind two drained guards and hundreds of prisoners cackling insanely.   
  
**x. war**  
  
I said it once and I say it again: _I should have known._  
  
I should have known what the Ministry would do.   
  
I should have known that the Dark Lord would recruit me.   
  
I should have known what my reward would be.   
  
_should have known._  
  
I know now that I was tricked. I know that with every fibre in my body. With every Mudblood I suck dry. There is no freedom here for me.   
  
Yet…   
  
What does it all matter?   
  
The Dark Lord has never betrayed me. The Ministry has. In the end it's as simple as that. Black and white.   
  
There _is_ no room for neutrality in war.


End file.
